


Moryo's Kitchen Nightmares

by katnor



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Annoying Siblings, Chef Moryo, Chocolate, Ex-Boyfriends, Finrod loves good food, Green Day - Freeform, Haleth is a Good Friend, Inappropriate use of Star Wars quotes, Innuendo, Interior Decorating, M/M, Nurse Moryo, Past Relationship(s), Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2018-11-12 22:58:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11171865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katnor/pseuds/katnor
Summary: Caranthir is persuaded by a friend to help with turning an old underground bunker into a top notch restaurant. There's only one problem - he has to work with a wonderkid interior designer to complete it.





	1. First impressions

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for a story about kitchen nightmares for a while, I knew it would feature Moryo and that meant Finrod had to be in it too. Rating will go up as we go.  
> They're not mine, and I don't make any money off this. More's the pity.

”... and the restaurant is going to be inside this old wartime bunker, it’s been restored of course, electricity and all the pipes renewed... but it’s still going to be a real challenge, which is why I want you to work on it Moryo. You’ll have free hands planning the menus and you can have the kitchen exactly the way you want it. The theme of the place will be a joint effort with an interior designer, who’ll be handling the décor, lighting and things like that.”

”I don’t know...” Caranthir sounded uncharacteristically hesitant. ”A luxury restaurant in an underground bunker? Won’t it be dark, dank and dreary?” 

”Of course not! Not if it’s done right!” Haleth gave him an affronted look. ”I am hiring the best people I can find to make this happen. Please, Moryo, say you’ll do it!”

Caranthir sighed, but he already knew he would do what she wanted. Haleth was a friend, and a very good one at that. There was a time when he thought she might have been more than that, but she had told him no in a rather gentle way. After the initial disappointment he came to realise she’d been right in insisting they stick with being friends. 

”So who do you have doing the interior then? Melian?” 

”No, she’s quite good with settings with lots of wood and greenery, but she’d be worthless around stone and concrete.” 

”So... Durin then?” 

”I considered it, but he’s too much of a traditionalist, and I want something new and fresh here, sort of natural while underground. I managed to hire Finrod Felagund.” 

Caranthir raised his eyebrows and whistled, impressed in spite of himself. The ubiquitous Felagund had become something of a legend in a very short time. He was young and multi-talented, or so the rumour said, dividing his time between interior decoration, music and travelling the world. He spoke a dozen languages, dabbled in poetry, rode in the Grand National a couple of times and, if one was to believe the scandal press, had a reputation for breaking hearts left and right. 

”Is he going to have time to do this? And speaking of time... how long have I got? If I decide to do it I mean.” 

Haleth grinned knowingly. ”You know you’re going to do it Moryo honey. There’s no one else that has your flair, and if you say no to this, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Not to mention you’d visit the restaurant and think of how much better you could have made it!” 

Caranthir made a resigned moue, because of course she was right. ”You know me frighteningly well Hal, damn your eyes. Yes, I’ll do it. I’ll ask again then; how much time do I have?” 

”Three months.” 

”You what?! You’re insane! There’s no way this can be done in three months!” 

”Most of the ground work has been done already. What remains to be done is furnishing, kitchen, decorating and of course, the menu. I have supreme faith in your abilities Moryo, and those of Felagund as well! Which is why we are meeting him on site later today.” 

”Wait... you set up a meeting without having asked me first? What if I’d said no?” 

Haleth just gave him a lazy grin and patted him on the cheek. Caranthir growled, but didn’t feel like starting an argument this time. The project sounded like a real challenge, and working with Finrod Felagund... should at least prove interesting. 

A few hours later Caranthir prowled the rooms of the bunker, touching the freshly-plastered walls, studying the layout of the place and furiously jotting down notes on his iPad. Haleth had stayed at the entrance to talk to the building supervisor. He could clearly see the potential of the place, however, there was a lot of work still to be done, and only three months in which to do it. He shook his head ruefully, but knew he could never let a challenge like this pass him by. This restaurant would be something completely unique, and it needed, no, demanded, a unique menu to complete it. 

Suddenly, there was a movement in one of the far corners of the cavernous room. Caranthir frowned when a slim, blonde young man appeared in front of him. Dressed in faded jeans and a pale grey sweater, he looked like a college freshman, with long blonde hair cascading over his shoulders, reaching almost to his waist. His eyes were a vivid blue, fringed with long golden lashes, his cheekbones were sharp enough to cut yourself on, and he had a sensuous mouth with full lips, just begging to be kissed. _Now where did that come from?_ Caranthir shook his head irritably and tried to gather his thoughts again. ”Who are you and what are you doing here? This is a building site, you’re supposed to be wearing a hard hat!” 

”I don’t see you sporting any headgear either”, the young man retorted. 

”Now look here...” Caranthir began, his ire rising quickly as always. ”This is no place for nosy kids! Now get out of here before I call security!” 

”I don’t think...” 

”Hey! Haleth! We’ve got an intruder here!” 

Haleth came hurrying into the room, but stopped as soon as she saw the young man and burst out laughing. ”Oh Moryo... you’re so funny! I see you’ve met your new partner. How good of you to stop by on such short notice Finrod!”


	2. Gold and black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caranthir is having trouble in the kitchen, not to mention trouble behaving normally around Finrod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own any of them, sadly. I just like to play with them from time to time.

Caranthir wiped his brow and gave a frustrated growl. The sauce for the chicken dish he was planning just wasn’t coming out the way he wanted. He had tried seasoning it with several different spices, but none of them was _right_. He glanced at his phone and cursed loudly when he realised he had about 30 minutes to clean the kitchen, shower and drive over to the bunker for another work meeting with Haleth and Finrod. And he still hadn’t made any progress on that fucking dish! He grabbed a plate from the stack of cheap IKEA china that he kept for just this purpose and hurled it straight at the far wall. The plate shattered in a thousand pieces, but it made him feel a little better, as always. He got the broom and dustpan and quickly cleaned up the shards, filled the dishwasher and started it, wiped the kitchen counters and went to take a shower. 

On the drive to Nargothrond (now what kind of brainless blonde comes up with a name like that a sarcastic voice in his head said) he pondered the sauce again. Lemon grass, tamarind, ginger... none of those were what he was after. His thoughts, for some reason, at this point strayed to the upcoming meeting and Finrod-fucking-Felagund. The wonder boy was full of ideas about the restaurant, and he wasn’t sticking to just the décor either. Meetings with him were like trying to keep up with a hyper eight-year-old, he kept jumping from one subject to the next without ever pausing. 

Caranthir hissed when he realised where his thoughts had taken him once again. Finrod had somehow engraved himself on his brain. He decided he needed something else to occupy his mind, and he knew just the thing too. His Spotify held a true fan’s complete collection of Green Day albums, and that ought to do it. When the music started blaring from the speakers, he howled along with Billie Joe Armstrong in ”Basketcase”, then when the song changed to ”King For A Day” he drummed on the steering wheel to the galloping rhythm of the drums and sang along with abandon. When the next song started Caranthir grimaced a little, but he decided to let it keep playing. ”Oh Love” wasn’t one of his favourites, he preferred the faster pieces. He hummed along anyway, but then came the verse that made his breath catch: 

”Talk myself out of feeling  
Talk my way out of control  
Talk myself out of falling in love  
Falling in love with you”

Caranthir skipped to the next song with a quick movement. 

He pulled into the parking lot next to the restaurant-to-be and got out of the car. He could hear Haleth’s laughter just as he opened the door and walked in. The bunker no longer looked much like a bunker, even though a lot of work still remained. The concrete walls had been painted in a way to make them resemble natural rock. The ceilings had been plastered unevenly and painted the same way, and the total impression was that of a cavern. The floors were even, Finrod had been outvoted by Haleth and Caranthir on that issue. He’d pouted about it for a while, but Caranthir pointed out that it would be bad business having both customers and employees stumble and break bones on uneven floors. 

He found Finrod and Haleth on the far side of the place, having a spirited discussion about fountains. It turned out Finrod wasn’t too keen on those, he had a cousin who was an architect and kept putting them in everywhere he went. ”I’m not too keen on being known as Turno’s blonde copy” he admitted. ”I’m more of a waterfall guy myself.” 

”We are NOT having any waterfalls in here”, Caranthir said sternly. ”Do you have any idea what all that moisture will do to fixtures and furniture, not to mention food?” 

Finrod rolled his eyes and gave him a condescending smile. ”Not in here of course”, he said haughtily. ”I was thinking outside the entrance. If they can do it in Vegas, why can’t we?” 

Caranthir growled something under his breath and turned his back on the blonde, fighting the impulse to either punch him in the teeth or kiss him senseless. He was fairly sure the first would mean getting in trouble with Haleth, and the second meant giving up and admitting to himself that he actually found the young designer attractive, while also getting in trouble with Haleth. 

”So how has the menu been coming along?” Haleth gave him a bright smile that showed too many teeth, her way of telling him she’d spotted his behaviour and wasn’t happy about it. 

He blushed hotly, taking the defence at once: ”It’s coming along well, ok?” He looked down when Haleth gave him a sceptical look, and continued, in a more subdued tone: ”I’ve been having trouble with one of the chicken dishes is all. I know what I’m looking for in it, I just can’t figure out what’s missing. I brought some along, wanna taste it and give an opinion?” Haleth brightened and nodded eagerly, she’d always been one of his greatest fans when it came to cooking, even if she wasn’t interested in his skills in other fields. 

Caranthir got the refrigerated containers from his car and quickly heated them in the microwave they’d installed for the workers. Haleth shook her head disbelievingly. ”You’re the only person I know who drives a car with a fridge.” 

”You have no idea what food poisoning can do to you, do you Hal? It can kill you if you’re unlucky. If you’re lucky you’ll just wish you were dead.” 

”Yeah yeah. Here, gimme some of that, it smells delicious.” He grinned and dished up some of the food on a plate, then gave Finrod a quick look and made one more plate. 

”Hey Felagund, you wanna try it too?” He tried to sound casual about it. Finrod gave him a sudden smile, and it was like the sun had burst through the clouds. Damn, but he was delectable! 

And annoying! Don’t forget annoying, the voice in Caranthir’s head reminded him.

Haleth dug into the chicken dish with gusto, smacking her lips and grinning at Caranthir’s moue of distaste at her poor manners. Finrod, on the other hand, tasted the food just like he did everything else, with elegance and grace. He brought the fork to his lips and hesitated shortly before nibbling a little on the piece of poultry and then sliding it into his mouth, half-closing his eyes as he did so, a look of concentration on his beautiful face. Caranthir couldn’t help staring. When Finrod moaned his appreciation, the dark-haired chef swallowed hard and tore his eyes off the blonde, turning to Haleth instead. ”So what do you think Hal? I know there’s something missing, I just can’t tell what would make it perfect.”

”Chocolate.” 

”Say again?” He gave Finrod an astonished look. 

”Dark chocolate. Powdered or melted. Just a touch, but it ought to go real well with the cinnamon.” Finrod gave him a quick smile, then turned back to his plate. ”This is really a fabulous dish”, he said. ”What are you calling it?” 

”I don’t name the dishes until I’ve settled on the recipes”, Caranthir replied, blushing furiously. 

”Oh. That makes sense I guess. Well, if you follow my suggestion, maybe you could call it ’Gold and Obsidian’.” 

Caranthir pondered. They had decided on naming the private rooms after different minerals, but it wasn’t a bad idea to have the food named the same way. He gave Finrod a quick, tentative smile and was rewarded with a light blush and a grin from the designer. 

Haleth said nothing, but gave them both a speculative look. Caranthir knew that look, and it didn’t bode good for his peace of mind. Hal could be very single-minded, and if she got an idea into her head, she wouldn’t let go of it. 

”Hey guys, I’m sorry, I just remembered I have a dentist appointment! You’ll have to have the progress meeting without me, I’m afraid. I’m sure you’ll manage just fine.” Haleth practically threw her half-empty plate at Caranthir and sprinted off towards the entrance. ”I’ll talk to you later Moryo! See you tomorrow Finrod!” She ran off, leaving the two men staring after her, then at each other a little awkwardly. 

Finrod shrugged. ”Is it ok if I eat what’s left of Haleth’s portion too?” Caranthir passed him the plate and blushed an even deeper red when the blonde moaned around yet another mouthful of chicken. He seemed quite unaware of the noises he was making, smiling blissfully up at the slightly taller man. ”This is so fucking delicious!” _So are you_ , Caranthir thought, and at that precise moment he finally admitted it to himself. He’d fallen in love with Finrod Felagund.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm. Now what will happen - will Moryo come clean with the delectable Finrod, or is he too proud (and too scared of rejection) to declare his love?


	3. Barefoot in the kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haleth gives Finrod something to think about regarding Caranthir. Caranthir finally manages to work out a complete menu for the restaurant, and decides to invite Finrod over for a tasting.

As the weeks went by and the time for the grand opening came closer, Caranthir’s mood worsened to a point where even Haleth started avoiding him. The kitchen was almost done, what remained were just small adjustments and a few final touches, but he was still stumped when it came to the menu. 

Well, not the menu in its entirety of course. He had most of the basics done there too. The problem was the pièces de résistance, the main courses that would draw the crowds and make people drool just reading the menu. The things that would make Nargothrond stand out among all the other high-priced restaurants. Caranthir wasn’t used to having trouble with his creativity. His whole professional life he’d been the prodigy, the youngest ever to win the national MasterChef, praised for his innovative touch and his adaptations of traditional Noldor dishes. Now, at 28, he was acclaimed and acknowledged for his talent and his quirks, he had his own blog with millions of followers, and got a lot of attention from both males and females because of his fame and his dark good looks. 

This project was taking its toll on him though. Not only because of the bothersome menu, the biggest reason he was out of sorts was spelled Finrod. The blonde was always friendly and seemed not to notice Caranthir’s moodiness, or if he did, it didn’t bother him. 

Caranthir would have been outraged and embarrassed if he’d heard the discussion between Haleth and Finrod a few weeks into the Nargothrond project. At the time, he had just left the bunker in a rage, slamming the door so hard all the light fixtures waiting to be installed rattled and a few of them fell off the shelf. Haleth rolled her eyes, counted to ten in a multitude of languages, and then said: “I’m sorry about that Finrod. Moryo can be a right pain sometimes. His bark is definitely worse than his bite, but sometimes I just wish he’d bite and be done with it.” 

Finrod’s laugh was like a clear bell. “Oh, I bet he’d bite you, any day!” 

Haleth grimaced. “Not really. He used to fancy himself in love with me, right when we first met. I turned him down, and we became friends.” 

Finrod gave her a thoughtful look. “That seems almost out of character”, he remarked. “I would have thought he’d never want to see you again after a no.” 

“This is the mistake most people make about Moryo. They think that, because he’s such a distrustful hothead, he’s vengeful and nasty, but they’re wrong. He’s a real softie, and he hides it by blustering and slamming doors. He’s the best friend anyone could have, he’s fiercely loyal and would do absolutely anything for someone he cares about.” 

Finrod raised his eyebrows, then laughed. “Now I know why I felt like I knew him the first time we met. He’s just like my younger brother Angrod! Really easy to rile up, goes off like fireworks at least ten times a day, but you can find no better wingman!” 

“That does sound a lot like Moryo”, Haleth admitted. “The reason he’s distrustful is that he’s had some bad experiences after he won MasterChef. People who wanted to be seen with him, who took advantage of him because he was famous and came from a rich family. There was one guy especially, who really did a number on his self-esteem. It took a long time before he trusted anyone new after that, and he hasn’t had a girl- or boyfriend since.” Finrod threw a quick look at Haleth, who just shrugged noncommittally. “Caranthir’s bi. He hasn’t kept it a secret or anything, I’m guessing you won’t have a problem with it?” Finrod shook his head, not trusting himself to speak at that moment. 

After this discussion, Haleth had noted that Finrod’s eyes strayed more often to Caranthir, at least when his back was turned. She pretended not to notice, but it happened rather frequently that she suddenly remembered a previous engagement right in the middle of a work meeting, thus leaving the two men on their own. She didn’t dare do it _too_ frequently though, Caranthir wasn’t dense by any means, and if he figured out what she was up to, she knew there would be hell to pay.

At last came the day when Caranthir lost his temper totally while trying to come up with some unique courses. He smashed all of his IKEA dishes in a truly spectacular temper tantrum, then spent an hour cleaning up the debris and cursing himself for a fool. He went shopping and came home with enough groceries to feed a medium-sized town, and started cooking up what could only be termed a storm. A hurricane even. 

Ten hours later Caranthir practically fell into the shower and then into bed. He was exhausted, but by the gods, he had it now! Now all he had to do was work out some small details and get someone to try out all the dishes and give an honest opinion. His last conscious thought as he drifted off to sleep was that he might ask Finrod to do the honours. 

He called Finrod the next day and asked him if he wanted to come and do a tasting of the complete menu for the restaurant. 

“You mean… at y-your place? Dinner?” 

“Well, yes. I want to thank you for giving me the idea in the first place. The chocolate, I mean. It really helped.” Finrod sounded strange over the phone, he thought distractedly. His voice was a little strained, and he stammered a lot, which was unusual for him. “So tomorrow at seven, my place. Do you know where I live? It’s over by the bay, an old house…” 

“Yes, I know the place.” Finrod still sounded odd, and his reply was clipped, almost like he was angry or something. Caranthir disconnected the call and shook his head, bemused. Finrod Felagund was normally very polite and urbane, a smooth-talking charmer, so what was that all about? 

Next morning Caranthir got up early and started cooking. He cleaned the entire house in record time while keeping an eye on the various pots and pans that were simmering on the two stoves he had installed in his kitchen. He even changed the bedding, because it was time to do it, not because he had any hopes of… _Oh damn, who am I trying to fool anyway? I’d bed him in an instant if he showed the least interest._ Caranthir sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. It was true, given a chance he would jump into bed with Finrod. But would that be enough? He was honest enough with himself to admit that it probably wouldn’t be. The blonde designer had really managed to get under his skin, but was it mutual? He felt reasonably sure Finrod was at least a little attracted to him, but was it more than that? 

At a quarter to seven, Caranthir had changed his clothes four times, tried braiding his hair, given up on it, discovered his left sock had a hole in it, discarded the socks and then had to run downstairs when the oven dinged, barefoot and with his long black hair hanging loose down to his shoulder blades. He quickly put it up in a loose bun, while taking the stairs two at a time, slipped and slid into the kitchen, got the dishes out of the oven and put them on the counter to cool. 

He hurriedly dished up the different courses onto serving plates, opened a bottle of wine and checked the desserts that were cooling in one of the refrigerators. He looked up to check the time and realised it was exactly seven, just as the doorbell rang. He nearly ran to the door and opened it, just as the thought hit him: he’d forgotten the socks! He looked up from his feet straight into Finrod’s blue eyes that had grown wide at the sight of Caranthir, dressed in worn pale blue jeans, a deep red shirt, barefoot and with his hair coming loose from the hair tie. Finrod himself was ridiculously attractive in dark jeans, a white linen shirt with billowing sleeves and a beat-up leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. His hair was braided back from his face, with the rest of the golden mass left loose down to his waist. He looked like an angel, Caranthir thought, while he still stared into those pale blue eyes that had grown much darker all of a sudden. 

Finrod blushed and handed him a bottle of wine and a bouquet of deep red roses and white carnations. Caranthir stared down at the flowers, bemused, then looked at Finrod a little helplessly. “They match my shirt”, he managed at last, “I’ll, uh, find a vase for them. There’s a wine bottle on the counter, if you’d like to pour yourself a glass. I’ll be right back.” He hurried off to find a vase, then arranged the flowers elegantly and went back to the kitchen and dining area. 

Finrod stood holding a glass of wine, leaning over the counter and savouring the aroma of the food. “This smells absolutely heavenly”, he chirped, then turned and handed Caranthir the second glass. “Do I get to taste everything?” Caranthir nearly froze. He raised the glass to his lips and took a large gulp, not trusting himself to answer right away. _Is he flirting with me or am I just reading too much into this?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> F: Can I lick you all over?  
> C: Is he flirting with me???  
> #oblivious


	4. Sins and Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finrod eats his way through all that Caranthir has to offer. Well, almost all.

Finrod sipped his wine and glanced at Caranthir through long, golden lashes. The dark-haired chef met his gaze briefly, then looked away, the colour rising in his cheeks. The hand that held the wine glass shook a little, and he hurriedly set it down on the counter. “Are you ready to start tasting the menu? What I’m saying is… the food’s getting cold.” 

The blonde gave him a quick smile, dimples showing, and answered: “Yes of course! I’m always ready for whatever you’re willing to serve! I mean… _when_ ever.” 

_Oh gods, he **is** flirting… oh fucking hell, why am I always blushing? I never blush at innuendoes – so why is he affecting me this way?_ Caranthir took a deep breath and tried to force the blush down, without much success. “The appetizers are on the wooden tray to your left. There’s canapés with salmon, sour cream and shallots, then there’s flatbread with venison and cream cheese, flatbread with walnuts, sundried tomatoes and crème fraîche, rye bread with cep fried in butter and parsley, and petits choux with whitefish roe, smetana and dill.” He rattled the dishes off quickly, doing his best not to stare openly at the blonde.

“It all sounds absolutely wonderful, although I’m not at all surprised… mmmhmmmm…” Finrod broke off what he was saying as he popped one of the tidbits into his mouth and moaned appreciatively. “Oh sweet baby Jesus, this is so fucking delicious… gods, Moryo, how are you even able to make something taste like this… it’s like the best orgasm I ever had, only it’s food… foodgasm?” Caranthir noted, in the part of his mind not fighting a blush and a rapidly growing erection, that Finrod had used the nickname reserved for his family and close friends. He also noted, to his own surprise, that he didn’t mind at all. 

Finrod ate his way through the tray of appetizers with considerable enthusiasm, and Caranthir could only stare in consternation. _Where the hell does he put it all? He’s thin as a rail… no, scratch that, he’s perfect… but the amount of food he puts away could feed an entire family._ “Leave some room for the main courses and desserts”, he advised Finrod. “I want your opinion on those as well, especially the vegetarian ones.” 

“I thought you’d had Haleth try out some of the food?” 

“I did, but she refuses to taste what she calls rabbit food… says she’s a predator and will eat like one.” Finrod burst out laughing. 

Half an hour later Caranthir shook his head bemusedly. Finrod looked up at him and grinned, and before the brunette could stop himself, he burst out: “I have no idea how you can stuff yourself with so much food and still come back for more? You must burn calories something fierce!” 

The blonde gave him a coy smile and nodded. “Oh, I’ll stuff myself with you… your food I mean… anytime. I don’t know about burning calories though, but maybe you can help with that?” Then he giggled. “I’m sorry Moryo, I shouldn’t tease you like that… but you’re so lovely when you blush, I swear even the tips of your ears are glowing!” 

Caranthir felt he should be offended, but he just couldn’t work up the temper like he would around anyone else, except maybe for Haleth. He growled quietly, and Finrod laughed, the sound like a ringing bell. “Now… where’s dessert? I’m far from done with you… oops, sorry, I mean your food!” He didn’t look sorry though, and Caranthir fought down the flush that spread from his neck upwards. And downwards, he noted in embarrassment. The way Finrod’s eyes fixed on his groin, he had presumably noted it too. _Oh, fuck this. Payback time._

Caranthir fetched some bowls from the refrigerator and set them down on the counter next to Finrod. “So, you’re feeling up to some dessert are you?” he husked, scooping up some of the content of one of the bowls with his index finger and dabbing it lightly on Finrod’s lower lip. 

He swallowed hard when the blonde darted his tongue out, delicately licking the goo off his fingertip and then cooing: “Oh, I know what this should be called… _péché au chocolat_.” _Chocolate sin_ , Caranthir’s brain supplied, and then his finger was gently sucked into a hot mouth, Finrod’s tongue moving along it and caressing it in a way that he hadn’t thought possible. Now all his mind could do was gibber about how that tongue would feel wrapped around other parts of his anatomy. 

And then Finrod’s lips were on his, and that talented tongue was invading his mouth, mapping it out in short, almost aggressive licks and stabs. He moaned aloud, the sound only partly being swallowed by the lips covering his. Finrod snaked an arm around his waist, palm pressing against his spine between his shoulder blades, while the fingers on his other hand dug into Caranthir’s hip. Caranthir whimpered softly, his arms going around the blonde, hands busy undoing the braids that held his hair back from his face. Once he had the braids out, he pushed both hands into the soft tresses, groaning at the feeling of the heavy silken mass. His helpful mind supplied vivid images of himself on his back on the bed, Finrod’s golden hair sliding softly across his skin as he kissed his way down his torso. When the blonde sank to his knees in front of him, he was unsure for a moment if this was really happening or if it was part of his daydream, but then Finrod unzipped his jeans and rubbed the heel of his hand over the bulge in his boxers, and with a jolt Caranthir realised that he was awake and Finrod Felagund was on his knees on the floor, licking his lips and struggling to free his erection from the cloth covering it. He felt suddenly light-headed, not surprising given that most of the blood in his body seemed to have gathered in the groin area. 

_Of all the effects that a blowjob can have, I’d never have thought it made your ears ring._ Caranthir struggled to think, but it felt like swimming upstream in syrup, very very slow going. Then Finrod let his cock slip out of his mouth and looked up at him, his pale eyes almost black with desire. “There seems to be someone at the door – are you expecting company?” 

Only then did Caranthir realise where the ringing in his ears came from. He shook his head, dazed. “No… just you.” _And of all the inane things to say… where the fuck did my wits go? He just turns my brains into mush…_

Finrod rose gracefully from his kneeling position and gave Caranthir a wistful smile. “You’d better get the door. From the sound of it, they’ll start breaking it down in a couple of minutes.” 

“Finrod, I…” 

“I think I’d better leave now, while I still can. We’ll be working together for a while yet, best not complicate it, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah, you’re right…” Caranthir knew it was for the best, but the nagging voice in the back of his head said he really didn’t want Finrod to be right about this. He wanted the beautiful blonde to go back to what he had been doing, and he wanted to wake up tomorrow morning with him in his arms.

He reluctantly tucked himself back into his jeans, and shuffled off toward the front door, Finrod following him, grabbing his leather jacket from the hallway and putting his shoes on. When Caranthir eventually wrenched the door open, the ringing of the doorbell had been replaced by an insistent pounding and the sound of cursing. Caranthir gave the motley crew on his doorstep a long-suffering look. 

“What are you lot doing here and why are you trying to break my door down?” 

“Hey Moryo, we didn’t know you had company…” The silver-haired man trailed off, eyeing Finrod with more than just casual interest. “Whoa… Is this the designer wizard you’re working with? Must be a really demanding project if you’re working Friday nights as well…” 

The accompanying suggestive grin made Caranthir roll his eyes. “Yes, this is Finrod Felagund, who does the interior of the restaurant. Finrod, these louts are some of my brothers. The leering one is my older brother Celegorm. Ignore him and if you’re lucky, he might just go away. The dark-haired one is Curufin, and the gingers are my youngest brothers, Amrod and Amras.” 

Finrod looked slightly overwhelmed. “Some of your…? You mean you have more brothers?” 

“Yes, two older ones, Maedhros and Maglor, although they’re a bit more civilised than this lot and call ahead before coming to visit.” 

“You wound me! Do we really need to call and make an appointment just to see our beloved sibling, who, I might add, we haven’t seen hair nor hide of for a couple of weeks now? Mama is starting to wonder if you’d left the country and neglected to tell her.” 

Caranthir sighed and shook his head. “Seeing as you’re here now, you might as well come on in. I have food. Lots of it. We were just testing the menu for the grand opening of Nargothrond.” The twins’ eyes lit up at the mention of food, and they crowded into the doorway. 

Finrod smiled at the brothers and said: “It was nice meeting you all – enjoy the food, it’s absolutely delicious!” Then he turned towards Caranthir. “Thank you for letting me try all your creations. It’s true what they say… the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Caranthir just nodded dumbly. 

As Finrod turned around and walked towards his car, one of the twins whispered, rather loudly: “Now, he’s _HOT_!” Caranthir growled in the affirmative and closed the door behind his unruly siblings, and therefore didn’t see Finrod’s triumphant fist-pump as he got into his car and drove away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a while to figure this chapter out... until Celegorm insisted on getting a part. Then it took off on its own.  
> I thrive on kudos and comments. Feed me!


	5. Do you wanna share a ride and get the fuck out of this joint?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the opening night for restaurant Nargothrond. Celebrities and reporters are everywhere. And someone from Caranthir's past makes an appearance.

This was it. Their big day was here – tonight was the grand opening of the Nargothrond, with celebrities aplenty, lots of media representatives and a bit of last-minute arrangements and nerves. Caranthir was restlessly pacing about his kitchen, waiting for the car that would take him to the restaurant. Haleth had forbidden him to do any work this night. “You are going to represent, be charming and funny – I know you have it in you, so don’t think you’ll get away with anything less – and sweep the press and celebrity guests off their feet.” 

He’d growled something unflattering in reply, but acquiesced, because he knew she was right. She had hired excellent chefs, the menus were set and he would only be in the way if he insisted on elbowing his way into the kitchen. He’d do more good for the restaurant by mingling with the invited guests, even though it wasn’t his favourite pastime. _The benefits of being famous… you’re of more use when not doing the actual work that made you famous in the first place._

A signal from outside told him his ride was there. He grabbed his phone and coat and gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror. He’d left his hair down tonight, just pulled some of it away from his face and secured it with a clip at the back of his head. The deep red linen shirt contrasted nicely with his pale skin and dark hair, the soft black leather pants fit him like a glove and drew attention to his narrow waist and hips and (if he said so himself) rather nice ass. His cheeks looked a little flushed, he noted, but all the better if that made his freckles stand out less. 

Caranthir ran out the front door and dashed down to the limousine waiting at the curb. He dove into the backseat, and realised too late someone was already seated there, which meant he ended up sprawled, in a rather undignified manner, across their lap. He looked up, blushing furiously, as the warm chuckle told him it was Finrod he had draped himself over. Caranthir sat up rather quickly and stammered out an apology, but the blonde just waved it off with an indulgent gesture: 

“No need to apologise Fëanorion, we _are_ running a bit late after all so it was good of you not to keep us waiting. Bubbly?” Caranthir blinked at this, his mind being a bit slow making the connection between the question and the bottle Finrod brandished. At his nod (and blush), Finrod popped the cork and filled two champagne flutes that had appeared as if by magic on the table in front of them. He handed the brunette a glass and held the other up. “To Nargothrond, creation and passion.” They clinked their glasses together and took a cautious sip. 

The ride to the restaurant took almost no time at all in Caranthir’s opinion, but that might just have been because he would gladly have gone across the continent with Finrod without complaining. They talked about Nargothrond, about the project and Haleth, about certain little mishaps during the renovation that seemed funny in retrospect, although not so much at the time they happened. They avoided the topic of what would happen after this evening. Caranthir didn’t want to talk about it because he was realising, with a sinking feeling, that this could very well be the last he’d see of the charismatic interior designer. Finrod hadn’t brought the subject up either, and they were very carefully not talking about the incident at Caranthir’s house. 

All too soon the limousine drew up outside the restaurant and the driver got out and opened the door for the two. As they stepped out of the car, the horde of reporters and photographers descended upon them, shouting questions and exhorting the two to stop and smile for pictures. One of the reporters dared a question that had little to do with the restaurant: “You arrived together – does this mean you are an item? Can we expect to see more cooperation between the two of you in the future?” Caranthir growled, but before he had time to tell the nosy git where he could stuff his question, Finrod gave a huge, bright smile and announced: 

“We work well together. As for the future, you’ll just have to wait and see, Mesdames et Messieurs!” He posed for the photographers, resplendent in white and gold, then laughed, grabbed Caranthir’s hand and quickly dragged him off inside the restaurant, the two burly men at the door stopping the reporters from following them inside. Finrod grinned at the two. “Thanks for the assistance, Barahir, Bëor! Let’s hope they stay calm, but please, keep them from harassing the guests as they arrive.” The two nodded quietly and went back to guarding the door.

The first thing they saw when they entered the restaurant proper was Haleth holding court over by the bar. She glanced over at them and lit up: “Hey, there you are guys! Did the representatives of the free press give you a lot of trouble?” 

“There were some questions about whether we were involved, seeing as we arrived in a shared limo”, Finrod replied. “Come to think of it, that was rather odd. We live on opposite sides of town- wouldn’t it have been easier to just have two cars?” Haleth suddenly became very busy with her phone, frowning over it with an expression that Caranthir immediately identified as guilt. He sent her a dark look, but she met his eyes with an innocent smile and a shrug. _Damn you Hal, I know what you’re doing. Stop match-making!_

After this, the evening was very much a blur for Caranthir. People came and went, most of them the kind he knew only through gossip. Telchar, his old roommate from college, was there with his wife Dís. He was happy to note his oldest brother Maedhros had brought his boyfriend Fingon. Fingon’s father, senator and military hero Fingolfin, greeted him with one of his rare genuine smiles and a raised glass. Celegorm was, for once in his life, in a tuxedo, looking like a million bucks and surrounded by a bevy of giggling beauties. Maglor, who was providing some of the musical entertainment, hurried by, but had time to give Caranthir a quick hug before he had to get on stage. The twins were busy eating their way through some trays of hors d’œuvres, and Curufin was studying the lighting fixtures with great interest. Caranthir suspected it wouldn’t be long before he was presented with new and improved lamps courtesy of his younger brother. He knew his parents were supposed to be there too, but try as he might, he couldn’t see them anywhere. Several hours had passed, the whole event was a success, but Caranthir was getting annoyed. He couldn’t find Finrod anywhere, there were just too many people who wanted to talk to him and he was getting more and more afraid the blonde designer would leave before he got a chance to talk to him alone. 

“Moryo.” The deep voice behind him made him freeze. He turned around, very slowly, and met a pair of green eyes, belonging to a tall, brown-haired man dressed all in black. 

“Ulfang. What are you doing here?” Caranthir’s voice was cold and impassive, but his heart was threatening to beat its way out of his ribcage. 

“I couldn’t let the chance pass me by… to see you again, to try and… I never stopped loving you, you know. I never understood why you just left. No explanation, nothing.” The green eyes were sad and bewildered. Caranthir clenched his fists but made no attempt to reply, just turned on his heel to leave. The man grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face him. 

“Ulfang, you son of a mangy bitch. Take your hands off him or I’ll remove them for you – with a cleaver.” Haleth’s voice was low but clear, and the rage in it would have made a lesser man wet himself. Ulfang did not, but he let go of Caranthir. He turned to face Haleth, who stood there with Finrod at her side, fists balled and eyes burning with hatred. 

“Haleth. I should have known you’d try to come between us.” Ulfang’s tone was contemptuous. 

“US??? There is no us, Ulfang! We ceased to be years ago, when you all but crushed my spirit and sold me out to the press at the same time!” Caranthir felt almost lightheaded with fury and humiliation. 

“Let me handle this Moryo”, came a familiar voice. Celegorm stood beside his brother all of a sudden. His eyes were icy and his lips were drawn in a feral grin, as he locked gazes with his brother’s former lover. “I would love to hear what you have to say for yourself. I’d love it even more if I could hear it while I rearrange your face a little. I suspect I could get one or two of my brothers to help too. Perhaps all of them.” 

Ulfang backed away, paling a little as Celegorm followed him. 

“Moryo, I must say this place is absolutely fantastic!” Maedhros had suddenly appeared beside his younger brothers. He took in the tense expressions on their faces, then his gaze fell on Ulfang. “ **YOU!** ” His eyes went absolutely flat with rage, his mouth tightened in disgust and he went straight for the other man, his fist colliding with his nose with a satisfying crunch. The brunette went down like a sack of potatoes, and Maedhros stepped over him with a disdainful sniff. 

“Would someone mind taking out the garbage?”, Haleth called out, then grabbed Maedhros and kissed him soundly on both cheeks. Celegorm high-fived his older brother and laughed.

“Never thought I’d see the day you knocked someone unconscious, Nelyo! Wasn’t it you who claimed it was always better to try diplomacy?” 

“That was before that piece of shit hurt my baby brother”, Maedhros growled. He inspected his right hand mournfully. “Damn, I think I broke a nail.” 

Two security guards collected the still only half-conscious Ulfang and firmly escorted him to a small holding room to wait for a taxi. Caranthir just stood there in the middle of the floor, still trembling with shock and outrage, when Haleth snaked an arm around his shoulders. “Moryo, are you all right? That scumbag didn’t hurt you, did he?” She inspected him closely. Caranthir shook his head mutely. “I have to go see to it that he’s kicked out properly. Finrod, could you… take care of Moryo for me, please?” 

“Of course.” 

“’m fine”, Caranthir mumbled. 

“You look a bit shell-shocked.” Finrod’s blue eyes were worried.

“I’ll be fine, just a reaction is all. If I never see him again, it’ll be too soon.” Caranthir didn’t sound shocked or dazed anymore, if anything, there was a new energy in his voice. Their eyes met, and in the next moment, their lips also met in a wild and heated kiss, tongues doing battle while their hands sought to find bare skin. Then Finrod drew away a little, looking into Caranthir’s passion-darkened eyes.

“I think we’ve done our part for this evening. And officially we’re no longer working together. My place?”

Caranthir nodded dumbly. He was still trying to find words in the taxi on the way to Finrod’s, but every time he opened his mouth to say something, the blonde silenced him with another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from a Green Day song, "Stay the night".


	6. Don’t look away from the arms of love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finrod and Caranthir talk a bit. Mostly they make out. Also, annoying brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to NelyafinweFeanorion for help and feedback when this chapter proved to be too much for me. If you like it, it's all thanks to her. If you don't like it, it's all my fault.

The two of them stumbled across the lawn, heading for the front door of Finrod’s lovely red-brick house, hand in hand and panting like they’d run a marathon. At some point, Caranthir managed to force out:

“I think you over-tipped that taxi driver!”

“It was that or be brought to the police station. He really didn’t appreciate you trying to give me a blow job in the backseat.”

“I wasn’t – “

“Yes you were. I’m not saying I mind, but there are more appropriate places…”

He managed to unlock the door after a few false starts, and they fell through it giggling madly, clawing off coats, kicking off shoes and kissing all the while. Finrod kicked the door shut and pinned Caranthir against it, threading his hands into the dark hair that was coming loose from the clip and pulling hard. The clip clattered to the floor, but neither of them noticed.

Caranthir felt dizzy, like he’d had too much to drink (he hadn’t) or he’d forgotten how to breathe (he might have). His scalp was tingling from Finrod’s treatment and his legs trembled, but since Finrod was keeping him pinned between his body and the door, he managed to stay upright. 

Finrod licked a long stripe from his ear down to his collarbone, grazing it gently with his teeth, then biting down a little harder on the pale skin, making Caranthir moan and buck his hips reflexively. There was a buzzing sound in his ears and his chest was… vibrating? That didn’t seem right. Caranthir tried to make his brain come out of makeout mode into thinking mode. He reluctantly removed a hand from where it was enthusiastically squeezing Finrod’s ass and lifted it to his chest. Huh. His shirt pocket was vibrating.

Shit. Not shirt pocket. Phone. 

He tried to ignore it, hoping whoever was calling would give up. The phone went quiet for a few seconds, then started vibrating again. Caranthir groaned and went back to grabbing the fabulous ass of the blonde who was currently trying to pull his shirt out of his pants. The feeling of Finrod’s warm hands on his bare skin made Caranthir shiver and let out another helpless moan. 

Then his phone started up a third time. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, resisting the urge to hurl the damn thing at the far wall, then dropped his hands from Finrod’s glorious backside and said:

“I’m sorry… I was hoping they’d give up…”

Finrod looked up at him, breathing hard, cheeks tinted a bright red. “Maybe you should answer, it might be something important.”

Caranthir sighed and averted his eyes, nodding reluctantly. He dug the phone out of his pocket and barked out a “Yes?” in a tone that indicated to anyone with half a brain he wasn’t pleased with being disturbed.

“Moryo – where are you? Are you alright? You disappeared from the party, did that son of a bitch Ulfang come back?” 

Caranthir closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and silently counted to ten in several languages. “Tyelkormo.” His voice was flat and rather cold.

His brother knew he was out of favour when his family members used that name. “Uh… I was worried about you? And Nelyo made me call because the last he saw of you, he said you looked pale and you were shaking. And then you were gone…” Celegorm sounded apologetic and not at all like his normal, ebullient self.

“All right, all right, I get it. The two of you are like two old biddies, always meddling and always worrying. I’m fine. I’m more than fine. Until you called, that is.” Caranthir cast a quick glance at Finrod, who was trying very hard to hold back a grin. 

“Oh. Did I interrupt something?” Celegorm had a strong voice, and Caranthir suspected Finrod could hear every word he said. “Ohhhh… Moryo, you dog. Are you by any chance entertaining a certain hot blonde at the moment?” 

Caranthir growled. “Did you have anything else on your mind, or did you just want to ruin the rest of my evening?”

“You _are_ , aren’t you… I'll tell Nelyo not to disturb you. Good for you Moryo... teach me your ways, sensei! And go get some!” Celegorm’s cheerful voice grew even louder at the last words, clearly audible in the room, and then he hung up. 

There was a long silence in the room, then Finrod said, in a voice that was half-choked: “ _Teach me your ways, sensei?_ ” He snorted out a giggle, then gave up and howled with laughter. Caranthir frowned, feeling oddly insulted on his brother’s behalf, but the blonde’s mirth was infectious, and soon they were both laughing hysterically. Every time one of them looked at the other, it resulted in a fresh bout of mirth. 

They finally managed to calm down enough to breathe normally again. Finrod put a hand gently on Caranthir’s shoulder and smiled. “Will there be more concerned phone calls from various brothers? Will there be family members breaking down my door in half an hour, or do you think you convinced him you were ok?” 

“I’d say he took the hint. And if he was calling on behalf of Nelyo, and Nelyo is convinced, they won’t call again until tomorrow.” Caranthir sounded fairly certain.

“But… are you really Moryo? Alright, I mean? That ex of yours… he really did a number on you, didn’t he?” Finrod caught his gaze and held it.

“You’ve been listening to Haleth I hear. I was not in a good place at the time, that’s true. He used me, made me fall in love with him and then abused my trust. But Finrod, it’s been years… and I realised tonight I’m over him for good. I was mostly annoyed, and angry with myself because I wasted a lot of time on that manipulative bastard. Gotta admit though, I enjoyed seeing my nerdy big brother knock him out.” Caranthir grinned suddenly, viciously. “He must have a glass jaw… or nose. Nelyo hits like a ten-year-old girl. Probably because he hasn’t been in a fistfight since he was ten…”

“I just…” Finrod hesitated, then pulled Caranthir close and buried his face in his hair, breathing deeply. “I don’t want to pressure you. You mean a lot to me, and…”, he took another deep breath, his voice hardening, “I would gladly kick his ass into next week for what he did to you. With steelshod boots.” 

Caranthir couldn’t help himself, he started giggling. Finrod was such a mixture of sexy and adorable, it was almost impossible not to love him, and even more so when he went into protective mode. 

“Laugh at me, do you?” Finrod mock-glared at him. 

“Oh no, not Yoda! Please don’t quote Yoda at me, it’s so unsexy!” Caranthir complained, still giggling. 

“Oh… we wouldn’t want that now would we?” Finrod pursed his lips as if trying to hold something back, then struck a pose: “Judge me by my size, do you?”

“I don’t know your size yet!” At that, they both lost it, roaring with laughter, holding onto each other for support and gasping for air like beached whales. 

Once they’d regained breath and were able to stand upright again, Finrod cupped Caranthir’s face gently and regarded him with such tenderness it made his insides go all gooey. “Moryo… would you stay with me tonight? We… we could just sleep together. Or… maybe a bit of making out?” His smile was hopeful.

“Yes…” Caranthir’s breathless answer made Finrod’s smile grow bigger. “Yes to all of it”, Caranthir clarified. “Maybe just… could we just see where it goes?” 

Finrod took his hand and led him past the living room and into a dark bedroom. He sank down on the bed, pulling Caranthir on top of him and wrapping his arms tightly around him. When their lips met, it felt almost like it was their first kiss. Caranthir thought of earlier kisses and tried to make sense of it. Perhaps it all felt so new because it was, new and fragile and full of hope. 

He suddenly realised his shirt was open and nearly off his shoulders; it seemed his blonde companion had magical fingers to manage things like that. Finrod sat up in the bed and pulled his own shirt over his head, tossing it negligently on the floor, then started kissing Caranthir’s neck and shoulders while pulling his shirt the rest of the way off. Their bare chests pressed together, and they both whimpered at the feeling. Caranthir marvelled at the heat of Finrod’s silky skin. The blonde had always had cool hands, but now they were almost scorching against his chest and stomach. When Finrod raked blunt nails over his nipples, Caranthir threw his head back and arched his spine, trying to get closer to those tormenting, wonderful hands.

“Finrod _please_!” he choked out. 

“I love your voice when it sounds like that”, Finrod murmured in a voice that was a gravel-coated shadow of his normal, melodic tenor. 

“Finrod!”

“Mmm, that’s my name, and don’t wear it out.” Finrod coaxed him onto his stomach, then rolled on top of him, straddling his thighs and pinning him to the bed easily. He descended on him again, mouth hot and wet against his lower back. His lips moved slowly up to Caranthir’s shoulder blade, latching onto his neck, nibbling lightly, then down again along his spine, barely touching the skin.

“Damn you Felagund, stop teasing!” 

“Who says I’m teasing?” The smirk was clearly audible in Finrod’s voice. “Maybe I’m just waiting for you to ask politely… or beg.” His voice dropped an octave on the last words. Caranthir moaned helplessly.

“Who’d have guessed you were such a demon in bed?”

“Moryo, my sexy kitchen god, in the words of the immortal Bachman Turner Overdrive: _You ain’t seen nothing yet…_ ” 

His thumbs swept lightly down either side of Caranthir’s spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Finrod’s lips followed, and the sensation of the hot mouth that left a cooling, wet trail on his skin made him shiver uncontrollably. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to get closer to that wicked tongue or try to escape it. The surge of pure _want_ and _need_ in Caranthir made him light-headed.

“Finrod… please… just…”

“Just what, Moryo? What is it you want me to do?” Finrod sounded so damn calm, he thought, like he wasn’t trying to stay afloat in a storm at all. 

He turned his head to look at the blonde, who was still straddling his thighs. Finrod might sound calm, but his cheeks held a hectic blush, his eyes were dark and glassy and his lips swollen and wet-looking, and his normally so impeccable hair was mussed and wild, a strand of it sticking to his lips. The blush wasn’t restricted to his face, it spread down his chest and lower still.

Caranthir closed his eyes and groaned. 

“Hey, hey… keep your eyes on me sweetheart… eyes on me…” He hardly recognized Finrod’s voice anymore, it was so deep and rasping. He obediently opened his eyes and they locked gazes. Caranthir was going to die, he was fairly certain of it. He was going to die if Finrod Felagund didn’t fuck him. Right. Now. 

“What do you want me to do?” Finrod repeated once again. 

“Fuck me. Please.” Caranthir had no pride left. He would beg if he had to, he knew it. He was in love with this wonderful, impossible, wonderfully impossibly gorgeous man, and he’d take whatever he was given. 

“No.”

Caranthir felt like someone had doused him with cold water. He stiffened (and not in a good way) and tried to squirm out from underneath Finrod, but the blonde kept him pinned to the mattress. He closed his eyes, tears of humiliation burning under his eyelids. _He doesn’t want me after all. Maybe it was just a game for him._

“Look at me, Moryo.” Finrod’s voice was softer now, gentler. “I am not going to fuck you. I am going to make love to you. Worship you. Love you. Forever, if you let me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. There'll be one more chapter, an epilogue of sorts.


	7. Is your heart singing out of tune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caranthir and Finrod finally talk. And make out some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes life gets in the way of stories. That's what happened here, and this is why the last chapter comes 8 months after the previous one. I'm sorry about that.

He really liked this dream. It was everything he could have hoped for, hell, more, as Finrod was talking about _forever_ like he meant it. It was a pity it was just that, a dream, because if it wasn’t, Finrod could fuck him into the mattress, or worship him, or love him, as long as he could stay with him. No matter if it was just for this one night.

“It’s not a dream, Moryo…” The blonde’s voice was soft and quavered a little. “I realise this might not be the best time, and if you decide to run I can’t blame you, but I hope you’ll stay for more than one night.” Caranthir squeezed his eyes shut and willed his heart to stop doing those stupid somersaults. The dream sounded very Finrod-y, but if he opened his eyes, surely he would wake up and find himself alone in his own bed, sporting a hard-on? 

Dream Finrod giggled. He sounded absolutely adorable doing so. “Moryo, please open your eyes and look at me. You’re being silly, and you’re not going to wake up in your own bed. You are sporting a hard-on though!”

Caranthir winced. _Fuck, did I say that out loud?_

“You did”, Finrod confirmed. 

_Bloody hell. Someone please kill me now…_ Caranthir carefully pried his eyes open, almost expecting to see the ceiling of his bedroom. Instead he was surrounded by a warmly glowing, golden light that was moving gently. It took him a couple of seconds to identify it as Finrod’s hair, loose from his customary braids, hanging down to form a curtain around the two of them. A pair of pale blue eyes watched him intently, with a gleam that was all too familiar to Caranthir.

“Are you laughing at me?” 

There was a short, guilty silence and then Finrod burst into laughter. “I’m sorry Moryo, but your not-so-silent inner monologue was kind of funny. Why on earth would this be a dream? You didn’t drink that much did you?” 

“I had a couple of glasses of champagne… didn’t really feel like getting drunk and ruining the evening by hitting on you and getting turned down”, Caranthir grumbled.

Finrod’s smile disappeared. “Have I ever given you reason to believe I would turn you down?” 

Caranthir felt his heart constrict at that. No, he admitted to himself, the lovely blonde had done no such thing, in fact he’d done the opposite, taking more than one chance to show his interest. 

“I’m an idiot, or so my brothers tell me. It’s just…”, he swallowed hard and fought to keep going, “I’m not the most trusting person, for – for reasons – and I’m not easy to get along with. You could do so much better. You’re Finrod Felagund, you’re talented and charming and everybody loves you. What use is a bitter celebrity chef with anger management issues to you?” 

Finrod’s lips thinned a little, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he rolled off Caranthir and scooted up towards the headboard of the bed. Once he’d settled with his back against the dark wood, he pulled Caranthir into his lap with surprising strength given his slender frame. Caranthir admitted to himself that it was a real turn-on, being handled like he was a doll despite being both taller and broader than the blonde.

He opened his mouth to try and put words to his feelings at that moment, but Finrod took his right hand between both of his, turned it palm up and kissed the fingertips lightly. Then he kissed the palm and went on to touch his lips to the pulse beating in Caranthir’s wrist. Caranthir closed his mouth, trying to bite back a moan without fully succeeding. 

Finrod trailed his lips lightly up Caranthir’s inner arm from wrist to elbow, where he latched onto the soft skin, sucking gently. Caranthir gasped when the blonde suddenly nipped the skin hard, then laved the bitemark with his tongue. He looked up at the dark-haired man with a smile that was part apologetic, part devilish. 

“Sorry about that… I don’t usually bite. Much. I’ll make an exception for you though… you look so delicious I can’t wait to taste…” 

Normally, that kind of statement would have made Caranthir blush furiously, but now it seemed his traitorous body felt all that blood was needed somewhere else entirely. Finrod chuckled quietly and went back to trailing kisses up his arm and shoulder. When he reached the juncture between shoulder and neck, he pressed his lips against the most sensitive point, darting his tongue out to make Caranthir moan helplessly once more. He stuffed his fist into his mouth to try and keep quiet, but Finrod wasn’t having any of that. He caught Caranthir’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his face. 

“Don’t be shy about making noise love… I want to hear you, I want to know that I’m making you feel good.” Finrod pressed another kiss to his palm and gave him a smouldering look from beneath long lashes. 

The shudder that went through Caranthir’s body was followed by a wave of heat that left him gasping for air. “Finrod…”

“Call me Ingo, like my family does…”

“Ingo…” Caranthir was trying to remember what he wanted to tell the blonde, but again it seemed his brains had shut down, leaving him struggling to form words. 

Finrod canted his head slightly and gave him a thoughtful look. He had a tiny crease between his brows, Caranthir noted.

“Moryo, I really don’t want you to feel pressured in any way. I want you, in all possible ways, but I’m perfectly fine with just cuddling and sleeping together tonight. And if that makes you uncomfortable, I can take the couch and you take my bed. Or would you rather go home?” Finrod’s voice was quiet and even, but there was a tiny hitch in it at that last question.

“No, no, no! I’m not uncomfortable… or, I guess I am, a little, but it’s not because I feel pressured. And I’d love to share your bed, only… I’m a bit scared?” Caranthir blurted out. He flushed a dark red and avoided Finrod’s eyes. 

“I’d be surprised if you weren’t. I’m sort of… petrified? But I want this, I want to be with you and I want us to try and make something out of… our lo… our feelings…” Finrod stuttered and blushed almost as deeply as Caranthir. It was a novel thing to see the suave, worldly interior designer so flustered.  
And just like that, Caranthir was calm. 

“I feel the same, in case you were wondering. I fell in love with you, oh, a couple of weeks into the Nargothrond project… only you were the golden boy and me, I was the moody guy, sort of Gordon Ramsay but without the charm. I know how people perceive me, and I really didn’t think I’d stand a chance with all the pretty socialites swarming around you. But now I think I have this figured out… because we’re good together, aren’t we? We work well together, we complement each other, and if we run into troublesome customers, you can charm them and I can intimidate them. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?” Caranthir paused, looking at Finrod, who looked like someone hit him over the head with something heavy. 

“You fell in love with me? And you never said a word??” 

“Uh…”

Caranthir realised too late he’d made a mistake. Finrod lunged at him, grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard. Then he leaned back a little, glaring at Caranthir, mouth set in a hard line and blue eyes blazing. 

“I can’t quite decide if I ought to slap you or kiss you silly! You – you – “, Finrod seemed to have lost both his ability to speak and his customary calm. 

“If I’m allowed to choose, I’d go for the kiss”, Caranthir offered. He was amazed at himself, but something about the blonde and his flustered state made him feel much more sure of himself. It was gratifying to see the colour rising in those pale cheeks and know _he_ was the one causing the blush. 

“I’m not sure what to say right now. You’ve been in love with me for months now, and it never occurred to you to at least drop a hint? I’m not a mindreader Moryo, I can’t tell what you’re thinking unless you let me know, either in words or deeds! Goddammit!” Finrod slammed his fist into the headboard, and it went right through, the wood splintering, showering the both of them with fragments of wood. Finrod pulled his hand out of the remains of the headboard, grimacing slightly as he inspected his swollen, bleeding knuckles.

“Oh for… Felagund, did you break anything? Other than the bed I mean?” Caranthir carefully took the bleeding hand in one of his and inspected it for damage. “Where do you keep your first aid kit? The bathroom?” At Finrod’s nod, he hurried off, returning quickly with a small bag. He sat down beside the dejected blonde and began cleaning the wounds. Once he had all the blood wiped off and the wounds disinfected, he started winding gauze around Finrod’s hand, tying it off neatly and nodding contentedly. Then he started scolding the blonde, and went on doing that for a while, until Finrod grabbed him by the neck and kissed him, long and hard, silencing him efficiently. When he let them both up for air, he laughed suddenly.

“We haven’t really been too observant, have we my Moryo? Dancing around one another, pining and never really working it out?”

Caranthir had trouble breathing suddenly. That _my Moryo_ felt so right somehow, and maybe there would be other words, later… but right now, all he could think about was the emotions that were so clearly visible in Finrod’s eyes, and the soft bed beneath them, that was suddenly so inviting…

Out of the blue, he yawned, then blushed in embarrassment. Here he was, on a comfortable bed with the hottest man alive, and he got sleepy? Finrod laughed and patted his cheek gently. 

“I know _dusha moya, mon âme_ , it’s been a long day… we should try to get some sleep. But tomorrow we’ll talk, all right? That’s been the cause of our problems so far – not talking, or not talking openly enough. Let’s try and be honest with each other from this moment on?” 

Caranthir nodded quietly, the lyrics from an old nineties country song suddenly emerging in his mind. As he drifted off to sleep, wrapped securely in Finrod’s arms, he thought there was something to the lyrics that seemed so right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The country song mentioned is Shania Twain's "From This Moment On". Moryo listens to more than just punk rock!


End file.
